With Great Responsibility
by Brewis
Summary: [CHAPTERED] After a job gone wrong, Yaichi and Masanosuke discover that a shared experience can make a world of difference. Rated T for reference to brothels, alcohol and possible coarse language. Post-canon, anime ver.


This one was a situation the Five Leaves had never even considered to be possible.

The whispers of the winter air covered Masanosuke's arms with goosebumps and he failed to suppress a shiver, trying to stand ever-taller in front of Yaichi, an act which only made it more obvious that he was trying his hardest to impress the shorter man. Even after the two of them seemed to come to understand each other as equals, Masanosuke never seemed to understand how easily Yaichi could see through him. He straightened his back and raised his chin slightly, waiting for the distant glow of a lantern to approach their position at the predetermined rendezvous point. As the light became larger and the figure behind it came to be somewhat discernible, the bad feeling in the pit of Yaichi's stomach grew stronger. Something wasn't right.

An hour later, Yaichi and Masanosuke were back in town, in the latter's room. Masanosuke was panicking.

"I don't see what you're so upset about," Yaichi scoffed, twirling a tuft of hair on his finger, pretending not to be at all surprised by the situation. "This seems like something you would normally go for."

"Yaichi!" Masanosuke exclaimed in a whispered shout. "Taking care of an infant is fine with me in theory, but when it comes down to it, I know nothing about babies! What do they even eat? They can't chew anything! How am I to be prepared for this sort of a predicament when the only thing we were expecting to take home was ransom?"

"Look on the bright side, Masa," Yaichi said with a shrug, "we got twice the money we were expecting."

"I didn't stay with the Five Leaves to be paid for the care of a child! I just wanted to... well..." Masanosuke trailed off. He couldn't think of any reasons for his staying with the Five Leaves that he was willing to admit out loud. Yaichi eyed him, his face blank as the winter sky. Masanosuke stared back at him. There had to be a blue sky, maybe even stars, somewhere behind all those clouds. Or was he mistaken?

Yaichi changed the subject. "We can't tell the others about this. We aren't a babysitter's club. Once we find this baby a home, none of this ever happened. Okay? We'll keep her in your room. I'll tell the madam you're taking some time off because you caught a cold, and you can spend some time looking for a new home for the kid. Meanwhile, you're also going to need quite the shopping trip. Clothes, blankets, food... you have to provide."

"I can't do this all by myself!" Masanosuke cried, a little louder, but still trying not to wake the bundle of blankets beside him. Despite being surprised at the notion that Yaichi had put any thought into the situation, his anxiety blanketed itself over any kind of positive emotions that might have still existed in him at the time. He could have sworn he was about to cry, his fists balled up on his knees and his eyes fixed on them. His head felt hot. Did Yaichi not care what happens to the infant? About what happens to him?

"I'll help."

Masanosuke stared at his knees for a few moments longer, and slowly unclenched his hands, as though drawing a fist back during an argument. His eyes flickered around the room and slowly upward, coming to meet Yaichi's back. He was facing the open door, looking into the darkness. Now that he was offering to help, Masanosuke suddenly felt immensely guilty for asking him to do so. He searched for an appropriate response.

"Are you sure?" he stumbled on his tongue. "I'm sorry, this whole situation is likely harder for you to handle than it is for me. I'd think that such an ordeal may remind you of your past, and-" he stopped and slapped a hand over his mouth. Yaichi didn't move.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, returning his gaze to his knees. _Why do I always have to ruin everything?_

"Don't worry about it, Masa," the other spoke softly. "It's all... in the past."

Although troubled by the pause in Yaichi's sentence, Masanosuke let out a long breath of relief, only realizing then that he'd been holding it. Yaichi turned to look at him, and saw the man's smiling face. He was disgusted by that look, those eyes full of hope and naive trust. _Don't look at me like that._ He wanted to run away. Instead, he returned his attention to the nothingness outside, remaining silent for the rest of the evening, waiting until Masanosuke fell asleep where he sat before leaving for Katsura-ya.

An hour and a half earlier, the figure behind the glowing lantern stopped about four meters away from where Yaichi and Masanosuke stood. Yaichi narrowed his eyes in suspicion. The feeling in his stomach dropped deeper. The man holding the lantern carried a pack basket on his back, putting his lantern down in the snow before gently slinging the straps off his shoulders. Masanosuke gulped loudly, breaking what he'd hoped to be an undeterred façade, watching as the faceless stranger took a folded piece of paper out of his kimono and placed it on the closed lid of the basket pack. His head turned upwards, and Masanosuke wondered if he was looking at them. As if to apologize, the man took a few hesitant steps back before running away into the night. Yaichi gripped Masanosuke's arm before he could take off after him, seeing the look on the tall samurai's face.

"Masa," was the only thing he said. He approached the basket, leaving Masanosuke to follow timidly behind him. Ignoring the urge to rub his thin arms in the brisk air, he picked up the lantern, raising it to shoulder's height before gingerly lifting the paper, unfolding it with one hand. There was a note written on the inside. Masanosuke watched his face nervously, as it evolved ever so slightly, from his usual emotionless expression to a look of anger, or perhaps disbelief. It was subtle, he wasn't sure. His nervousness increased while Yaichi slowly lifted the lid of the basket, the note dropping from the shorter man's hand alongside Masanosuke's jaw as he observed the contents. Among them, one was money, and the other was alive.

Two hours after the basket was opened, Masanosuke awoke to his empty room, door closed, Yaichi gone, the candle on the floor flickering as it reached the end of its wick. He lifted his back off the wall, peering over to look into the face wrapped up in a blanket beside him. He'd used an extra blanket Yaichi had snuck over from Katsura-ya to make something like a nest for the child, who miraculously remained asleep the whole time. Masanosuke had initially worried that the baby was sick, or even dead – but they'd just been lucky to maintain such silence. He found himself smiling, looking at its tiny features, its pouty lips, nose barely the size of the tip of his thumb. How could anyone leave such a delicate thing for criminals to take, out in the snow?

He picked up the note, reading it over again. Originally, their plan had been to pick up ransom and return a son the next day. But as written, the child's parents expressed their wishes for a true heir – another case in which the son had been adopted. They accepted the return of the son, as he could still be useful to them in the future, however, they also revealed that they had recently seen the birth of a daughter; a daughter who wasn't wanted, an unworthy replacement for the son they so strongly desired. They could not bear to end such a young life, and instead took this opportunity, this chance affiliation with criminals, to be rid of the tiny girl. In transferring the responsibility onto complete strangers, they would ne'er need to trouble themselves over what became of her, and if the Five Leaves did not accept, it would be easy enough for them to expose the whole ordeal to the police. The child was rushed to shelter, and the boy was to be returned by Umezo the following day. What happened from there would have to be improvised by Masanosuke, and apparently Yaichi, now, too.

Masanosuke went over the events, replaying them in his head as he set up his futon to sleep. Was it simply Yaichi's guilt that compelled him to offer his assistance? Or was he beginning to change? If anything, his mask had begun to crack ever since the night he killed Jin and allowed himself to be vulnerable for once. Actually, his mask had begun to crack from the moment he laid eyes on Masanosuke, and it scared him. And it scared Masanosuke that so little had been said yet, between the two of them. At first, he'd felt content, this unspoken but certain trust between he and Yaichi blooming warmly in his heart. But he was someone who needed to talk things over, someone who could never be sure of anything that wasn't said out loud. He never knew what Yaichi was thinking. All he knew was that he was someone who never felt the need to talk about anything. Was it really okay for things to stay like this?

Acting as a wall, Masanosuke slept with his back facing the door, his body curved slightly to shield this new life, nestled without a clue in the bundle of blankets which he'd brought close to his chest. He listened to the silence of the night, his dreams flashing with recurring images of those mysterious green eyes.


End file.
